2024 was a significant year for The Sims 4, primarily because we received confirmation that The Sims 5 is not in development. Instead, we've been assured of an ongoing, live-service-like evolution of the game we've known and adored for a decade. Ironically, alongside this news, we received a new death-themed expansion pack, which seems fitting considering these live service elements are extinguishing my passion for the game.
I've been a dedicated Sims player long enough to witness the franchise at its lowest points. I'm forgiving of all the peculiar console spin-offs, including The Urbz and The Sims 2 Castaway. I've been around long enough to recall that The Sims 4, upon its release, felt like an empty shell of its predecessors, with its most intricate customization options stripped away, seemingly to justify selling even more expansion packs.
EA has never been secretive about its profit-driven motives. However, the most frustrating aspect of this new era of constant online updates, surprisingly, has been the free content. In May 2024, The Sims 4 introduced the first in a series of live 'events.' 'Happy at Home' granted you complimentary accessories, household items, and even personality traits if you logged in frequently enough. Seems appealing, doesn't it?
Following this initial success, The Sims 4 introduced a second event to our virtual dollhouses. Reaper's Rewards was considerably more interactive than its precursor, requiring players to complete a set of minor tasks to unlock free items. Catch a few fish, plant some trees, and you'll earn some traditional goth jeans. Flirt with the Grim Reaper, and you'll unlock a new tattoo. You get the idea.
Personally, I find such events to be completely contrary to how and why I play The Sims. My objective has always been to create, not to acquire.
My purpose is to design the perfect three-bedroom dream home and move in a Sim that's my virtual twin, except with unlimited funds. I'm here to cultivate the ideal cult leader from infancy, then observe their community crumble generations later when they embrace vampirism. I aim to optimize the efficiency of a driven middle manager and determine how quickly they can ascend to the peak of their career if they engage in romantic encounters daily.
In the Sims, I reign supreme. I am the narrator, the artist, the interior decorator. I hold absolute authority over life and death, joy and sorrow. I am all-powerful.
Therefore, you can comprehend my disappointment when an external force appeared and presented me with a mundane weekly checklist to complete.
When I played with dolls as a child, my mother didn't hover over me and instruct me to make those dolls do laundry. No one had the right to micromanage my personal narratives – which is precisely what these recent events are doing.
Admittedly, many of the suggested tasks were trivial. Pausing to inquire about Ambrosia with a neighbor or preparing a different meal wouldn't disrupt the intricate world I meticulously constructed. I could even opt to disregard the game's prompts.
However, if I did so, the game never ceased its reminders. The checklist remained permanently fixed in the upper-left corner of the screen, occupying the same space as in-game events like Love Day and Lottery Day. These seasonal activities can be dismissed if you prefer not to participate, but Reaper's Rewards didn't offer this option. You could minimize the events box, but it never truly vanished – it would reappear whenever you switched control to another Sim.
The event further disrupted gameplay by introducing new glitches. Many players who actually wished to engage with Reaper's Rewards reported that it was riddled with bugs. For instance, you couldn't fulfill the quests if your Sims resided on specific lots – a condition that was never explicitly stated as part of the event.
One Reddit user shared an experience where customer support advised them to initiate an entirely new save file if they wanted to participate in events like Reaper's Rewards. This elevates this new live event from bothersome micromanagement to complete control over our gameplay.
As someone who opted out of Reaper's Rewards, I didn't personally encounter its numerous UI problems. However, I did observe an increase in minor bugs throughout my game. Sims stretching to abnormal heights, floating babies, all sorts of minor anomalies that shouldn't exist.
Reaper's Rewards thankfully concluded on November 19, a few weeks after the Life and Death expansion pack launched. Finally, I could savor the Sims 4's macabre new content at my own leisure. I could delve into the realm of Gothic interior design and explore quirky new career paths, such as undertaking or working as a bona fide Grim Reaper.
That tranquility lasted a mere two weeks. On December 3, a new Christmas-themed event commenced. A recent game update introduced a new, inescapable checklist of festive chores. Glitches once again began to surface.
I'm not so frustrated with these new events that I'll permanently abandon The Sims 4. I've invested 20 years of my life in this franchise, and it would take some genuinely dreadful changes to sever that connection. Nevertheless, these events feel like the initial tremors of an impending storm.
Login bonuses and reward-focused objectives have the distinct odor of the FOMO-driven business model employed by microtransaction-laden free-to-play games. The rewards are currently free, but they might be the enticement before the trap is sprung.
I recall the early 2000s when each copy of The Sims included a code that limited it to a single download, preventing fans from purchasing used copies. I'm fully aware that the current version of The Sims expects you to spend over $1,000 to access all available expansions. I hold immense affection for The Sims, but I've never been fond of its monetization methods. I lack confidence that, in the long run, these events will benefit the players.
While the Life and Death expansion might have revitalized The Sims 4's business model, I fear it could be the demise of my love for the game. This Christmas, I'm imploring Father Winter for the optimism I currently lack. Please, ensure that this new approach won't be the change that drives me away.